


What Saturday Nights Are Made For

by EdgarAllenPoet



Series: Kinktober2018 [5]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Against a Wall, Alternate Universe - College/University, Biting, Drunken Kissing, F/F, Gay Bar, Genderqueer Pidge, Hickeys, dancing queen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 11:59:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16304789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdgarAllenPoet/pseuds/EdgarAllenPoet
Summary: "“Beautiful,” Pidge said back, because she wasn’t a pussy.  The girl laughed again, and her hand was on Pidge’s side, curling gently into the material of Pidge’s shirt like she was asking permission.  Pidge leaned into the touch, as if she was going to say no."





	What Saturday Nights Are Made For

**Author's Note:**

> Kinktober!!! Prompts: biting and against a wall. Guess we're mixing it up, friends.

Pidge didn’t go out a whole lot. 

 

As a matter of fact, she never went out.  She didn’t have  _ time  _  to go out a whole lot.  She was a woman of science, damn it, and she had classes to attend and lab hours to fill and experiments to run.  She had data to type and professors to please in the hopes that she would one day have her  _ own _ lab and her  _ own _ experiments, and then she, truly,would be a woman of science. 

 

For now, she was a student of science, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have game. 

 

Pidge had plenty of game.  She could get whoever she wanted, whenever she wanted if she tried hard enough.  At least, that’s what she told Lance when he goaded her into going out tonight. Because he thought it was sad that she was alone, but Pidge couldn’t care less.

 

There were more important things to college than chasing after girls (or boys, where Lance was concerned.  Or well… anyone, really. The boy had a problem). 

 

Pidge didn’t know why they were there.  Maybe it was an excuse for Lance to keep chasing after that boy he’d been talking about, the one with the dark eyes and mean attitude who was apparently very, very fascinating. 

 

Lance had gotten dressed in a skin tight t-shirt and pants that clung to him the whole way up, and Pidge had put on her best button-up and cleanest pair of jeans.  They surveyed the bar from their corner of the room and scoped their options. 

 

It was a gay bar, so they knew it was safe to look and even get caught doing it.  They’d had a few accidents their first few months at drinking age, but it had been a steep learning curve.  Getting chased back to campus by drunk, violent frat boys is a great deterrent against flirting with the wrong people. 

 

But here was fine.  Safe. Pidge sipped the long island she was holding and followed Lance’s gaze, found him staring doey eyed across the room at a stranger.  The first thing Pidge noticed about her was her hair, which shimmered a dozen colors under the club lights flashing overhead. It was either bleach blonde or white or silver, but it glistened and fell over her like a waterfall as she danced, shaking her hips to the music and throwing her head. 

 

She was… stunning.  Pidge felt her mouth go dry and took another drink.  It made her head spin just a little, something happy fluttering in her stomach. 

 

“You gonna ask her out?” Pidge asked, nudging Lance with her elbow.  He let his breath out in one, long puff.

 

“I….” he said, then trailed off, not planning to say anything else.  Pidge rolled her eyes. 

 

She said, “Pussy,” and moved the straw out of the way before tossing her drink back.  The ice bumped against her nose. She wiped the moisture away with the back of her wrist. 

 

Her feet weren’t unsteady under her as she crossed the room, but the alcohol was making her brave.  She wasn’t a good dancer- she knew that- but seeing this stranger dance and tasting the sugar on her tongue made her feel like she could do anything. 

 

A remix of “Dancing Queen” was playing, and Pidge was surprised Lance hadn’t run out here screaming.  At least it was something Pidge knew how to dance to. She reached the floor where the stranger was dancing, bobbed on her feet, and slipped in close.  

 

Not too close, not close enough to be impolite.  Just enough to make herself known, catch the girls eye.  As the chorus rang out, the girl spun towards her and smiled wide, throwing her arms in the air and giving into it.  God, she was gorgeous. It would have looked absolutely ridiculous, had it been anyone else, but this girl made her dancing look good.  Pidge joined her, getting into it, mimicking the girl’s movements and making her laugh. 

 

When the second chorus started up she felt warm hands on her hips, pulling her close and making them sway together.  Pidge laughed, followed the girl’s lead, and danced with her. The girl’s hair kept falling down, brushing Pidge’s cheeks as they danced.  It smelled like apple cinnamon shampoo, and there was glitter highlight on the girl’s cheek bones. All of her sparkled. Pidge was in love.  As the song started to near the end, Pidge took her hand and pulled her through the crowd, in the same direction she’d come from. 

 

“What’s your name?” a voice asked, hot breath tickling Pidge’s ear.  She had a British accent, which was surprising but not bad. Her voice was a smooth and heavy. 

 

“Pidge,” she shouted back over the din of the new song playing.  Pitbull… or something. This bar was rocking the early two-thousands tonight. 

 

The girl laughed, voice bouncing with her shoulders and making Pidge smile despite being made fun of.  The girl smiled, backing Pidge into the wall they’d found themselves by. Pidge let herself get led. “Cute,” she said, and Pidge smirked up at her.  The girl smirked back down. She was a whole head taller and it was  _ wonderful _ . “Allura,” she replied. 

 

“Beautiful,” Pidge said back, because she wasn’t a pussy.  The girl laughed again, and her hand was on Pidge’s side, curling gently into the material of Pidge’s shirt like she was asking permission.  Pidge leaned into the touch, as if she was going to say no. 

 

“Let me be honest, for a second,” she said, voice still louder than it would be in any normal conversation, still hard to hear over the noise of the room.  Allura leaned in closer to hear. Her hair tickled Pidge’s neck. Pidge reached up and tucked it back over her ear, got mystified the way Allura bit her lip.

 

“I’m not looking for anything serious,” Pidge confessed.  “I don’t have time. But I’d  _ really _ like to spend the night with you.” 

 

“Oh yeah?” Allura asked, raising an eyebrow and levelling her with a smirk.  Pidge felt her stomach flip over, and she was so fucking glad she’d picked a good one right off the bat.  Shy girls who danced around and batted at the subject were a lot of work, and the ones who just wanted to dance were fine but not what Pidge was looking for. 

 

Someone cute, confident, and eager to get off with her?  That’s what Pidge was looking for. 

 

There was a reason Pidge practically lived in a robotics lab.  Robots were easy. Robots were straightforward. Humans were complicated, especially with friendship and romance and getting-to-know-you’s.  Sex? Sex was easy. 

 

“And I’m trying to prove a friend wrong,” she added, because the way Allura was looking at her made Pidge want to say anything and everything to keep this girl’s attention. 

 

“What friend?”Allura asked.  Pidge scanned the room and pointed. 

 

Lance was standing near the table Pidge had left him at, shifting idly from foot-to-foot and rolling his drink between his hands.  Allura followed her gesture, grinned softly, nodded. 

 

“He’s cute,” she said, then looked back at Pidge. Her grin lit up Pidge’s whole chest. “But not what I’m interested in tonight.” 

 

Pidge had never had a thing for public sex.  They’d laughed about it before, in games of Never Would I Ever and just dirty conversations shared between friends, but Pidge hadn’t found anything alluring in the thought of strangers watching her bone. 

 

Regardless, there was something special about the way Allura pushed her back against the wall and captured their mouths together, something that made the rest of the bar melt away. Pidge couldn’t help the moan against her lips, and she didn’t hold herself back from grabbing Allura’s hips and pulling her closer.  

 

Pidge’s jaw was cradled in the warm embrace of Allura’s hands, her thumbs caressing Pidge’s cheekbones, her fingers dug into Pidge’s hair.  Pidge pulled her closer, sinking into her, until their legs were slotted just right. And they didn’t rub off on each other, because they were in public and denim didn’t allow for too much of that, but the pressure felt nice anyways.  Nice enough that Allura hauled her closer, Pidge pressed in, Allura pressed them flat against the wall. 

 

Pidge felt caged in in the best way possible.  Allura kissed the corner of her mouth, then her jaw, and Pidge dropped her head back against the wall deciding to let Allura do whatever the hell she wanted. 

 

Her lips were velvety soft against her skin, and a kiss to the underside of Pidge’s jaw made her shiver.  She slipped her hands up the back of Allura’s shirt, felt the soft soft skin at the center of her back. She was so damn warm.  One hand dropped to Pidge’s hip, where her shirt had come untucked, and her nails were sharp against Pidge’s skin. The threat of it sent a shot straight to her groin. Pidge dug her own blunt nails into Allura’s skin, and she was answered with Allura’s teeth against her neck.  She bit down, a gentle nip at first. Pidge’s breath stuttered, and then Allura captured a piece of skin and genuinely bit down, enough that it stung. Pidge rocked her hips against Allura’s leg, pulled her in closer, and swallowed the moan that formed in her throat. 

 

And then, just like that, it was over.  

 

Allura pulled away from her, and Pidge felt cold in her absence.  It took her a moment of opening her eyes and blinking around to realize that someone had pulled Allura away, that they were talking right in front of her. 

 

“-need the keys, man, sorry but I got a test tomorrow,” Pidge caught the end of their conversation and tried not to glare at the guy who’d broken them up.  He looked Pidge over, smiled apologetically. Pidge huffed. Allura turned to her with a bashful smile. 

 

“Sorry,” Allura said, leaning down and pecking Pidge’s lips.  Pidge stared back at her dumbly. “You were fun. Catch you around here sometime?” 

 

Pidge was too dumbstruck to form words properly, so instead she nodded.  Allura smiled, a clever little smirk, and then she was following her friend out of the bar, and Pidge was elbowing her way back through the crowd towards Lance. 

 

“Yo,” she said when she got there, shrugging off her disappointment and trying to lose the sensation of phantom lips against her neck.  

 

“That was obnoxious,” Lance said, reaching out and jabbing his thumb into the forming bruise on Pidge’s neck.  Pidge batted his hand away. 

 

“Told you it wasn’t that hard,” she said, then looked over at the boy Lance had been ogling all night.  She plucked the drink out of his hand and tipped her head in that direction. “Go get ‘em, tiger,” she said, smacking Lance on the ass and taking a sip of his drink as she watched him hype himself up and bounce across the bar towards loverboy.

  
_It was a good night,_ she decided, pressing her fingers into her neck and making plans with herself for later.  Long, _long_ plans.  


End file.
